


And Then They Ate Pierogies

by fmart203



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bad Jokes, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Not Canon Compliant, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 20:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18556984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmart203/pseuds/fmart203
Summary: A glimpse into Maria Hill's world with Natasha Romanoff, featuring two very different interactions between the two of them. The first is fluff, the second is angst.Alternatively;"Hill spends the next hour throwing up into the toilet bowl and cursing everyone and their mother. Natasha is sympathetic enough to hold Hill's hair up so she doesn't throw up on it, but not sympathetic enough to fetch Hill some Pepto-Bismol, because this is really funny to watch unfold. "





	And Then They Ate Pierogies

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't bother to proof read my work. Also this is a combination of two interactions between Nat and Maria, and the first one has Maria throwing up, so if you're sensitive to gross stuff then do not read. (Although it's not really that bad). Enjoy!

“Dear God. Fucking shit. Jesus Christ!”  
“Are you saying just any profane words that pop into your head, or is there an order?”  
“Shut your fucking trap, Natasha Romanoff.”  
“God, I wish Fury were here, so he could hear how his precious Maria were swearing like the ex-soldier that she is.”  
“You don't understand the kind of pain that I'm in right now!” Maria retaliates, and even in her fevered brain she knows it's a mistake.  
Natasha is silent. She shifts uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.  
“Sorry. I didn't mean…”  
“I know.” Her voice is quick, clipped. “It's not your fault, Maria.”  
“No, it is, it totally is. Shouldn't have said that.”  
“Let’s just agree to not talk about it.”  
“Sounds go-” Maria stops as her face bulges out slightly and she leans over the toilet, letting all the vomit come out.  
“Вау, это брутто,” Natasha mumbles under her breath. Maria hears and shoots her a deadly glare.  
“Your dumb language is stupid.”  
“It's not stupid, it makes perfect sense! Just not to you because you don't speak it.”  
“I don't need to speak it to know it's stu-” She thrusts her head back into the toilet bowl, ready for another round.  
“It's probably best you didn't finish that statement.”

Hill spends the next hour throwing up into the toilet bowl and cursing everyone and their mother. Natasha is sympathetic enough to hold Hill's hair up so she doesn't throw up on it, but not sympathetic enough to fetch Hill some Pepto-Bismol, because this is really funny to watch unfold.  
“Stupid fucking South Africa. There was something in the bugs there. Or maybe the water. Either way, I'm going to kick Fury's ass halfway to the moon and back when I'm better.”  
It takes all of Natasha's willpower to stifle a laugh. She can't let Hill have the satisfaction of knowing that she's actually funny.  
“Somebody's full of piss and vinegar tonight.”  
“You try throwing your guts out, Natasha. Let's see how you feel then.”

After another hour of cursing Hill is pretty much dry-heaving. Natasha runs downstairs and grabs her a glass of Ginger-Ale and helps her back into bed.  
“If we hadn't been dating for three years now, I would have beat your ass for seeing me like this.”  
“Oh Maria, I'm well aware.” She passes the glass to her silently, and Hill takes it with a shaking hand.  
“Thanks”  
Natasha smiles and runs her fingers through Hill's sweaty dark hair. She hasn't showered since she got back from the mission, simply climbed into bed and woke up an hour later to throw up.  
“How was South Africa?”  
“Hell. So fuckin’ hot and humid, and they have all this bugs there. Freaking demon gnats. I have a billion bug bites.”  
“I can see.” Natasha smirks. “You're also covered in grime.” She wets her finger and smudges it at a spot on Hill's dirty face.  
“I took a bit of a fall during a chase. Captured the guy and beat him up pretty good though, but I'm not doing a field mission ever again.”  
“You got a helluva tan too,”  
“It's not worth it. The tan isn't worth what I had to go through.”  
“Look what a few days in the sun have done to you! They've turned you into a completely different person!”  
“Yeah,” Maria says, grabbing the pail so she can dry-heave again. “Once this is over, my abs better be super defined. After throwing up everything I've eaten in the past fucking year.”  
Natasha lifts Hill's cotton tee shirt up and grazes her fingers over the other woman's abs.  
“They're super defined.”  
“Yeah? That's great. Can you pass me the pail? I feel some actual food making its way back up.”  
~  
Some days are like that. Lightweight despite the heavy circumstances. They can joke and laugh and poke fun. Others, not so much.  
~  
“Nat?”  
No answer.  
She goes into the kitchen.  
“Nat?”  
Still no answer.  
She goes into the bedroom.  
“Oh, there you are. Is everything o-” her voice falters as Natasha doesn't turn around to look at her from her post on the bed. Doesn't even acknowledge her existence.  
It's not going to be an easy night.  
“I'm here.” She carefully makes her way to the bed and sits near Natasha, not close.  
Natasha's eyelashes flutter as her eye darts around.  
“Nat, I'm here. I know you're not here. I know you're somewhere else. But when you're ready, I'll still be here. I'm not going anywhere.”  
She doesn't touch Natasha. She knows that it will shake her out, but Natasha will grab the gun in the nightstand faster than Maria can blink and it'll be held right against her throat. Not that that scares her. But it would make Natasha feel guilty. Easier to just wait it out.

Eventually, Maria notices a change in Natasha's demeanor. Her posture shifts, eyes go from alert to glazed over. Not fully home but getting there.  
“Nat,” Maria tries again, gently grabbing her wrist and massaging it.  
“Maria,” Natasha says, eyes glued in front of her. “You're here?”  
“Yes, I'm here.”  
‘Here’ is their go-to word. Maria loves the efficiency of it. It has so many meanings- I'm here physically, I'm here emotionally, I'm not leaving. Natasha loves it because it's reassuring. A code-word. The easiest way to say “I love you,” without having to actually say it. The easiest way to avoid saying “I love you.”  
“Um,” Natasha says. “You shouldn't have caught me like this.”  
“It's okay. I don't mind.”  
“I'd rather that- that you leave.”  
“The room?”  
“No. The apartment. Go home to yours.”  
“Are you sure?” It's the easiest way to ask “Why?” without actually asking it. Maria has a lot of shortcuts. Loopholes. She should have been a lawyer.  
“It's going to get messy,” Natasha whispers, her voice barely audible on the last note.  
In that moment, Maria resolves not to leave the building. She'll stay outside of Natasha's apartment, but there's no way in hell she's leaving that woman alone on one of her bad days.  
“I'll be back.”  
“Don't.”  
It's a sharp slap to the gut, and Maria feels like punching a wall once she's in the hallway.  
“I open up to her, I sit with her, I'm vulnerable around her, and this is how she treats me?”  
“God, what kind of a woman-”  
The kind of woman who's Natasha Romanoff. Who killed and tortured and had absolutely no say in the matter and zero control over her life. Who now has to live with that awful burden for the rest of her life.  
“I just wish she could understand,” Maria says to herself, sitting on the ground near Natasha's apartment door. “There are people who care about her, and she just pushes them away? Why? Because she thinks she deserves isolation after everything? Because her first instinct is to run? What a motherfucking enigma.”

Maria decides that sitting around isn't going to do anything, so she leaves to grab some pierogies at a Polish restaurant near the corner. She leaves some for Natasha and puts them in a carryout box.  
The sun is setting, pastel clouds dotting the New York City skyline. Maria strolls around for a bit, though there's not much to see. Not many parks nearby.  
Once the it gets to be too dark out, Maria heads on back to Natasha's place. She knows that it can end one of two ways: a good ending where they all eat pierogies, or a bad ending where Maria is kicked out (probably quite literally) and Natasha never talks to her again. The second ending is far more probable than the first.

“...Nat?” She knocks, and Natasha answers, hand on the door, door half opened.  
“God, Maria, can't you just leave me alone? I'm having a bad day.”  
“I brought you pierogies.”  
“I hate pierogies.”  
“That's a lie, I've seen you scarf down like 10 in a row after a mission.”  
“Okay, well maybe I don't need you or your goddamn pierogies, so just go!”  
“Nat,” Maria says gently, placing her hand on Natasha's. Testing the waters.  
She flinches but doesn't punch Maria or move her hand.  
“I know you're alone, but please, just-”  
“You couldn't possibly know.”  
That line is delivered with such a ferocity, such an animosity that Maria takes a step back and feels her face heating up out of humiliation, because Natasha's right- Maria couldn't possibly know.  
“You couldn't- you- you…” Natasha collapses on the floor, crying. The fervor is gone from her voice, the only thing left is desperation.  
Maria sets the pierogies down next to her and envelopes the smaller woman in a hug. She half expects a retaliation, but none is given. Not particularly surprising considering Natasha's current state.  
“Natasha, I don't know what you're going through and I won't claim that I do. But I'll be here for you, no matter what. If you want me. I promise.”  
Natasha clutches onto her body even tighter in response. 

After a solid ten minutes of Natasha being an emotional wreck on the floor, she finally separates from Maria.  
“I'm sorry, Hill.”  
“It's okay.”  
“No, it's not. I shouldn't have pushed you away.” She takes a deep breath. “Because the truth is, at the end of the day, I need you. It's not comfortable for me to hold people close. It goes against everything I've ever been taught. But I’m learning that no one goes through life alone. And I'm so much more grateful that I have your arms to cry into.”  
“That was-”  
“Cheesy.”  
“Well, I guess a bit, but it's the truth. I know that probably wasn't easy for you to share. So thanks.”

Natasha collapses back into Hill's arms, and she for a few more minutes, running her fingers through the red head's long hair. Eventually, it's Natasha who breaks the silence.  
“Smells good.”  
“Well, I brought pierogies back home, remember?”  
“Oh, right. Let's eat.”

So in the end, Maria Hill got the better of the two endings. Things weren't picture perfect, but she felt okay. Natasha was taking steps to trust people more, and Hill had hope that she would be let into Natasha's life more than be let out. The two of them, lying on the coach, stuffed to the brim with the beautiful Polish potato dumplings, was a far better conclusion to the day than Maria Hill had anticipated.


End file.
